This is one of those posts I’ve debated about writing because I am, at heart, a coward. I don’t like it when people I don’t know leave nasty comments for me on my blog, and I don’t like it even more when they’re not from deluded teenaged girls who clearly think that the only reason Milo Ventimiglia hasn’t fallen head over heels for them is that he doesn’t know they exist. (Yet.)

So I’ll try to write this in such a way that Google won’t be able to track me down. I’m trying not to offer myself up as fodder for the Internet trolls.

I’ve been having some rather un-PC moments at work lately, and the whole blogs-getting-banned in a certain country (Google it if you want to know) has sort of fed into my wondering about the fine balance between the healthiness of patriotism versus the delusion of nationalism.

Three examples I will offer.

The first is one that happened over the past week. As you will recall — or maybe you don’t — in June, I ran a workshop. The workshop went very well, except for what I had thought was a minor incident in which one of our speakers made a rather off-topic comment about war crimes in Iraq committed by the current government. In the audience of participants there were three military wives from a neighboring town with a large military base, one of whom has a husband currently serving in Iraq. Not to get into the he-said/she-said details, but it emerged this week that the three ladies had filed a complaint with the office of the University President afterwards, and that they expected an apology from the speaker in question, as well as from those of us who organized the conference.

(OK, I will allow myself one petty comment: among their litany of complaints about the two-second remark, which is the only thing they can remember about the week long program, was that they felt that it was obvious that they were upset after the comment was made — so upset that they didn’t call the speaker out on the spot or after the talk was over — and that those of us who were in charge “were too busy socializing” to come up and immediately apologize to them on the spot, which is what they felt should have happened. That they can remember us “socializing” but seem to be unable to remember that three of the four of us weren’t in the room at the time the comment was made is, of course, completely irrelevant.)

Bringing myself back to the topic at hand. From what I hear–the comment was certainly rather weighty, and attracted some puzzled looks from others in the crowd whose political leanings are more in line with my own, and it certainly is part of my own professional etiquette to keep political opinions out of programming. I have no problem apologizing to these ladies for their experience because it was never our intention to introduce such politically charged discussion into the dialogue, and it was never our intention to offend anyone.

I can never remember who made the comment that, “I may disagree with every word you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” I think it was Voltaire. It’s hardly relevant, given that such a principle of European enlightenment that drove our founding fathers was gone, completely, from the dialogue that ensued with our unhappy attendees.

What struck me — over the accusation of unprofessional conduct, which I find personally irritating — was that they were not asking for the speaker to apologize for the comment because it was out of place and ill-suited to the audience. No, they wanted her to apologize because they believe that she was wrong. The second is far more dangerous, you see, because it means that the only opinion that matters is their own, because, of course, it is the one that is deemed to be the more “patriotic” of the two. Certainly, had they gone to the media (and praise Bob Almighty they didn’t), it would have been the side that popular opinion would have taken in these troubled times.

The level of vitriol and “you shouldn’t question our government while we’re at war” reeks to me of the tired old neo-conservative line that dissent and debate are, in fact, traitorous acts in a time of war, even while we fight (supposedly) to preserve the values upon which this country has been founded, including free speech. To me, that’s an even more traitorous act. Apparently, I’m in the minority on this one, though.

My second story.

A little under two years ago, I went on a trip to a country that most people don’t get to visit. In advance of my visit, I was given a long list of things that visitors to said country should not do, because in the traditional society that governs the country, offense of one’s host is about the worst thing imaginable. And so I took copious notes and chose to behave myself and did as I was told … and anyone who has ever traveled with me knows that I’m famous for not doing as I’m told.

A delegation from said country is passing through in about a month and a half, and in the packet of briefing materials that we received was a list that looked oddly similar to the one I received of things that I wasn’t supposed to do there. This time, however, we were reminded that we are hosts to guests from another country, and we were given a long list of things that we’re supposed to do so as not to offend our guests.

And this was where my un-PC moment began.

At this point, I argued in my lengthy rant to my sympathetic but otherwise unhelpful boss, the issue is not about whether or not we’re treating our hosts or guests properly. The issue is now that they’re coming to our country — supposedly for the same sort of cross country exchange and learning experience that took me to theirs — and yet, they won’t be experiencing our culture at all because they expect us to play by the exact same rules that apply when they’re at home.

What, I asked, is the point of bothering with such a program at all if they’ve set it up so that they can take offense at the slightest gaffe on our part regardless of whether we’re there or they’re here? They’re not interested in learning anything. The simple fact is that they’ve made a judgment call: their cultural norms are more important than ours, and regardless of where they are, they always win.

It reminds me of the following exchange in Douglas Adams’ book, Life, The Universe, and Everything, in which Marvin the Paranoid Android meets a mattress in a swamp (it’s one of the funniest scenes in the entire five-book trilogy):

… I am at rough estimate thirty billion times more intelligent than you. Let me give you an example. Think of a number, any number.”
“Er, five,” said the mattress.
“Wrong,” said Marvin. “You see?”

Then, of course, we have the banning blogs issue that popped up this week. Now, as several commentators from the country in question have pointed out, this isn’t a government thing, but rather that a well-known and rather sketchy pseudo-scientist got offended that there were blogs hosted on the host that defamed him, and so he applied under the law of this particular country to the courts and got access to the entire domain suspended through the state ISP unless the offensive blogs are removed.

When I visited said country three years ago, I remember thinking that the form of nationalism that is practiced there is almost like a religion. Criticism of the founder, even in gest, is a punishable offense. Even more so, there is absolutely no critical self-evaluation allowed. Even in a region in which pride and nationalism run rampant, this particular country sets a new standard.

I fondly remember an academic talk in our department in which a speaker brought up the slave military corps used by the ‘Abbasid Empire in the 10th century — many of whom were from the ethnic group that would go on to found this particular country. At the end of his talk, a clearly unhappy doctoral candidate from another department — from said country — got up and offered by way of his only comment, “When I was in school, I was told that our founder once said that none of us has ever been a slave.” Period. End of comment. Take that, academia! You can’t argue with middle school textbooks!

So here’s my question: at what point does a healthy dose of patriotism turn into delusional nationalism? It seems to me that in all three examples, some line has been crossed, but I can’t quantify how or why. And, more to the point, how do we bring ourselves back to a point where we can separate dissent from subversion?

Is it even possible? I’m rambling, of course (see: title), but it’s one of the things that I’ve wondered about a lot recently. Thoughts?

Tags: academia, complaints, dissent, freedom of speech, nationalism, patriotism, politically incorrect thoughts, work